not your ANGEL
by xx. SilverTongue .xx
Summary: angelina and george have some fun with their friends and end up having a more serious conversation and then a little fun on their own. rated just in case for later chapters. reviews would be appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

authorsnote: okay, so, this was me playing with the idea that Angelina/George happened prior to

Fred's death. anything you recognize belongs to ms. rowling not me. ou know the drill: read, enjoy,

review. rated for possible later chapters. 3 silvertongue

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"George, I think your brother's drunk," Angelina Johnson observed with a snicker as the two of them helped

each other through the portrait whole and turned to watch the stumbling, giggling entrance of Fred and Alicia.

The group of friends had decided that a bit of celebration was in order before the twins grand exit the following

day, and , having made an escapade to the kitchen, they had spent much of the evening getting drunk in the

room of requirement.

"I do believe you're right, my Angel," George chortled, watching as Alicia helped his twin off of the floor with a giggle.

"I'm not YOUR Angel, Weasley." He was prepared for the glare she added to her snapped statement-- she wasn't

drunk enough to allow him to get away with that comment and he would have been disappointed if she had: compared

to the rest of them, she drank very little, making her by far the least inebriated of the four. George simply had a higher

tolerance for alcohol.

"Sure, Johnson, just like you're never giving me help on my Herbology homework again, and you will never EVER sneak

out past midnight to give me an alibi as long as you live," George pointed out, winking flirtatiously.

Angelina gave a laugh, rolling her eyes as she turned away from him to stop Fred claiming to help Alicia in an attempt to get

his hand down her blouse. Slapping Fred on the back of his hand, Ang pulled her friend's arm around her neck, hauling the

giggling girl to her feet as she attempted to ignore the fact that she could feel George's eyes on her. Or, more importantly, the

effect that his words and looks were having on her. Dropping Alicia onto the couch beside Fred, the tall girl stretched her arms

above her head, glancing around the room. It was dim and empty but for the four of them, who were occupying the area nearest

the dyeing embers of the normally roaring fire.

"Oh, stop looking so motherly, Angie," Fred complained, his arm slung around Alicia's shoulders, "Sit down and let us have some

fun." Angelina found herself rolling her eyes yet again as she followed Fred's directions, perching herself on the arm of George's

chair, even as she told herself that it was a bad idea. Alicia let out another giggle as Fred murmured something in her ear, neither of

them making a secret of the fact that they were both smirking in the direction of Angelina's seat.

Against her better instincts, the girl looked down, her braids slipping free of their knot at the base of her neck to tap George in the

upturned face. He grinned, tugging one of the many bead-tipped locks. "Hello beautiful."

Yet again, the woman rolled her eyes, this time adding a slap to the chest to express her supposed annoyance. "Shut up, prat," she

snapped, ruining the seriousness of the words by laughing.

"No. No, I don't think I will," he smirked "After all, it's important for you to be reminded..." Without giving her time to protest, the red

head snaked a long arm around her waist, tugging her down from the arm of the armchair and into his lap. Spluttering half-formed protests,

Angelina pushed against his chest, struggling to climb out of her new seat as Fred and Alicia cackled. Blushing furiously, Angelina subsided

into glaring silence until she realized that she had yet to vacate George's lap. She made a lunge to get up, but was caught by George's restraining

arm, which was still wrapped around her waist, his hand resting on the strip of skin exposed by her shirt when she was so unceremoniously removed

from the arm of the chair.

"George Weasley, you let go of me," she protested, struggling against his hold.

He let her struggle a moment before speaking, "Angie?" she twisted in his hold to glare at him. "Do you really want me to?" He brushed one finger

over her side, sending a chill up her spine.

"Yes," she said too quickly.

"Really. You're sure?" His voice was low and unusually husky as his fingers moved softly across her hip to her stomach.

She nodded the tiniest bit, her stomach squirming pleasurably at his touch.

"Fine then." He dropped his arms, leaning away from her into the chair as he did so. Damn him. Angelina let a breath she hadn't noticed she was

holding out in a huff and didn't move. "Ha, I knew it. You don't ACTUALLY want me to let go. You just wanted to complain."

Angelina gave another huff, crossing her arms. "Don't delude yourself, Weasley," she said acidly, shifting and slidding off of his lap to stand, "I was--"

she was cut off as he replaced his arm around her waist, yanking her back down.

"On second thought, maybe you can't leave yet."

"Knew it." She smirked teasingly, trying to avoid being hyper-aware of his hand as she did so.

"What can I say--"

"Nothing I'll believe," she quipped

"Oh just jump 'im already Ang," Alicia interjected with a giggle, as Angelina flashed a quick glare at her.

"I just guess I don't mind you being here, so opportunely located, if I do say so myself..." It was his turn to smirk now as Angelina gave him a cautious

look.

"What d'you mean, George..." He gave a shrug, his face suddenly speculative. "What?" Her voice was more insistent now as she quirked an eyebrow at

him: it was unusual for him to look so serious.

"Just wondering," he said casually, still watching her

"Wondering WHAT, George?" She laughed, amused and slightly embarrassed by his staring.

"If you'd slap me if I tried this..."

Angelina frowned, then started as George pressed his lips to hers. The dark girl gave a muffled squeak, resisting for a moment before relaxing into the

kiss with a small noise.

George was slightly surprised when she didn't at least pull away, even more so when she responded in kind, twisting to press back against his lips. He

pulled back to flash her a mischievous grin before kissing her again, this time with slightly less hesitation. She followed suit, turning so that she could

straddle him as his hands slid to her hips, one finger slipping into the waistband of her jeans.

"Oh c'mon you two, get a room," Fred complained, making the two of them pull apart with a laugh. "Please. Spare us both."

"Just shut up. You're only jealous because Angie's too good at keeping you out of Alicia's pants. No offense love," he added hurriedly as Angelina raised

her eyebrows at him. "Besides, it's not a half bad idea...though I was thinking we should take a bit of a walk first"

"Were you really, Weasley?" the young woman on his lap raised her eyebrows once again, crossing her lean arms and hiding amusement at his worried look.

He surveyed her for a moment, taking in the quirk of amusement at the corner of her mouth, the way her posture and tense muscles relaxed at the touch of

his hand. Angie gave a soft shiver as his hand slid up from her waist to her flat stomach, wanting immediately to chide herself for being so obvious about his

affect on her. His lingering looks were making her stomach squirm pleasurably, and she felt a flush rise again to her cheeks as he murmured, "Only if you want

to, of course. We COULD go straight to the room part and forget the walk." He smirked flirtatiously as she spluttered a bit, cursing how relaxed and casual he was

acting while she struggled to figure out if he was toying with her simply because he was drunk, if only a bit, or because he was enjoying making her squirm. Or if

he was actually serious.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay everyone, here's the second chapter. finally.

sorry it took so long, i've been horribly busy. thanks

to those who reviewed! 3

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"C'mon then." Angelina smirked, removing herself from George's lap and turning to face him. "If we're going to walk before curfew we'd better be going," she continued, her hands once again akimbo on her hips as she looked up at the smirking red head.

George's eyes lingered on her curves for a moment as she stood before him before he returned her smirk with one of his own "Who said anything about 'before curfew', my dear?" He let his eyes trail lazily over her before standing himself, forcing her back a step. "But you're quite right about going," he added, winking flirtaciously, "I'm rather impatient to get on myself."

Angelina felt her cheeks grow hot under his gaze and was glad to find an excuse to break what had quickly become a staring match to turn and glare at Fred and Alicia as the two snickered, arms around each other. "Oh shut up, Alicia. If you don't end up in his dorm for the night then I'll eat my wand. Whole." Her best friend only laughed more loudly.

"She's right, ya know," Fred murmured into Alicia's ear. "Or I hope she is" He pressed a noisy, theatrical kiss on her cheek, making the girl squeal.

Angelina rolled her eyes at the two as they sprawled across the couch. It had been obvious since fifth year to everyone but themselves that they would eventually get together. And now it was happening. Angelina wasn't sure how long it would last-- they were both so fiery and independent --but they were equally stubborn, and Angie knew that they would throw themselves into trying to make it work.

The black haired girl started as George's arm snaked yet again around her waist, pulling her with him and making her heart sputter "C'mon now, let them be," George murmured in her ear, his smooth lips sending chills down her spine as they brushed her ear, "You know she can take care of her self if anyone can. Besides, it's not like she's in the least bit unwilling." Angelina smiled reluctantly at the truth of his words. They'd spent the majority of the past year mooning over each other. Angie had listened to both of them bemoaning the lack of progress with the other side, and it had driven the woman to near insanity that the two of them, so bold about everything else, had not been able to express their feelings toward each other.

Angelina found herself distracted as George offered her his hand in assistance with exiting the common room. She only glared at this. "I have always been perfectly capable of entering and exiting this room with you WITHOUT your help, George," she said acidly "I am not made of glass, some fragile flower who requires careful handling lest she break, and I would appreciate not being treated as such."

"Right you are my A-- err, that is-- Angelina," he struggled as her glare only darkened at his words "Slip of the tongue, Ang, forgive me that, will you?" He added to the near apology with a quick kiss that left her momentarily reeling, if only from the lust that suddenly overtook her.

"Fine, fine. Forgiven, prat"

"Thank you, love. Gracious as always." She swatted him again but he merely grinned and captured her hand in his own, swinging it childishly as they strolled silently down the corridors. "So," he finally said, once again uncharacteristically sober, "I brought you out here because I wanted to ask something...privately." He pulled her to a stop, pulling aside a tapestry to reveal a small, sheltered nook that she vaguely remembered having sheltered in during her assistance in one of their pranks. He bowed in a very George-like manner, waving her into the dark niche and following behind her, letting the tapestry fall into place.

It was somewhat difficult to see in the small, rather dim space and it took Angelina a few moments of blinking before she could make out George's familiar form in the dark. "George, why the hell did you drag me out here," she questioned "If you wanted somewhere dark and cramped, we could just as well have used the broom closet in the common room-- it's closer to a bed," she added pointedly.

"Not to worry Angie, this room has....special significance. I didn't 'drag you here' for no reason. But I just wanted to ask--you know, make sure, as it were." Angelina blinked and frowned, then stifled his awkward speech with a firm kiss, sliding her arms around his neck.

"George, do me a favor and shut up? I did not come out here with the intention of letting you ruin a perfectly good bit of fun by asking me whether or not I was sure about having sex with you," she said bluntly "If I weren't sure, I sure as hell wouldn't do it, now would I," she added. "I AM capable of making my own decisions just as much as Alicia. More so, considering I'm not drunk. Well, not as drunk," she amended with a smirk.

George was silent for a moment, though she could feel his eyes on her face, and then he smiled, white teeth flashing in the dark before he kissed her hotly, his hands drifting down her sides to settle on her hips as his tongue begged entrance to her mouth. Angelina made another noise in the back of her throat as their tongues wrestled, her arms tightening around his neck as she stretched onto her toes to better reach him. "Mmn," She smirked as his own arms tightened around her, pulling her more snugly against him as one finger slid down the exposed skin of her lower back to dip below the waistband of her jeans. "You said...something--special....about this spot?" her question came out broken, interrupted by a gasp as he trailed his lips down her neck, nibbling lightly at the sensitive skin.

He laughed, his breath hot across her neck and traced his nose along the collar of her shirt. "It's rather conveniently located is all." His voice, other than being just slightly husky, was unchanged, as though he was not as effected by what they were doing as she was. Angelina again found herself annoyed that he could be so collected even as her body screamed for her to hurry up. " The Room of Requirement is just down the hall." THAT got her attention.

"Is it really now," she pulled away to grin playfully at him, her annoyance forgotten, "That's rather....exciting." he shivered at the heat in her voice as she ran her hands down his sculpted chest, and she grinned in triumph. A reaction at last. So perhaps he wasn't totally immune.

"Mmm" the noise was partially agreement part moan of pleasure as one of Angelina's hands continued it's way father down his chest. She let one finger run over the buttons of his shirt until she touched the waist band of his pants. She paused there for a moment before letting it drift even lower, brushing tauntingly over the zipper before coming to rest lightly over the swell that was hurriedly becoming more pronounced against his pants.

She lifted her head to grin up at him and was pulled into another heated kiss, his arms pressing her tight against him so that she could feel him pressing against the inside of her leg as his hands settled lower over her arse, making the young woman smirk against his lips. Nibbling hungrily at his lower lip, Angelina moved her hand to tug impatiently at the waist band of his pants before her fingers began fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

George pulled away from the kiss, panting and shook his head silently as he tried to stop her. She frowned and he grabbed her hands in his own. "Take it easy Ang," she glared at him and opened her mouth to argue, stung by his apparent rejection "It's not that I don't want you, sweetheart, it's just...." he glanced around at their location. "C'mon." He kept a tight hold on her slender hands in one of his as he pulled back the tapestry peering outside before pulling her with him down the corridor. He paused before an apparently blank stretch of wall, released her hands and ordered "Stay." before he began pacing up an down before the wall, muttering under his breath and concentrating. Angelina watched him silently, unable to stop herself sulking at the interruption, despite her awareness of the fact that they needed somewhere more private.

And then there was the door. George opened it inward, bowing as he allowed Angelina to enter first. When she did so, she was struck by the casual warmth of the room. It looked almost exactly as it had an hour before, when they had finished their after-hours party, with a few exceptions. It was dimmer in the room, the fire crackling more quietly and the only other light supplied by a surplus of candles scattered around the room. A large bed dominated the area that had previously been occupied by a couch, while there were but two armchairs and a love seat left of what had originally held their gathering.

Angelina smiled and turned around as George put his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her neck. "Now where were we?" She rolled her eyes at the corniness of the question, but was quickly distracted as he pulled her around to kiss her again, gently pressing her back into the door. She smirked, fingers fumbling at the buttons of his shirt before removing it from his lean body. She caught his lower lip between her teeth, tugging gently at it as she ran her hands hungrily over his chest.

"Ah, right," he murmured against her lips, a chuckle in the back of his throat as she stretched onto her toes again, pulling herself close to his bare torso as she kissed him again. Her stretching pulled up the hem of her shirt, leaving a significant gap between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her jeans; George waisted no time in exploring that area, his hands sliding beneath her shirt to run over her flat stomach, toned from hard work to keep up with the competition in Quiditch. She shivered at his touch, grinding against him and eliciting a soft moan.

"Mmmn, Angel, you...." She bit down on his lip, silencing him effectively, and pushed him backward until his knees hit the edge of the vast bed, forcing him to sit. He smirked up at her as she pulled away, scowling down into his face, her hands having returned to her hips.

"George, you are going to pay for calling me Angel, you know that?"

"I was counting on it love," he retorted, arms wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her foreword and pressing a soft kiss to the smooth mocha skin of her exposed stomach.

Angelina shivered and ran her fingers through his hair, shifting to straddle his lap as she did so. Leaning in to nibble at his ear, the young woman whispered "Payback," softly against his ear. The sound he made at that made Angelina believe that perhaps it wasn't so torturous for him as she had expected it to be. She would have to do something about that.

It was George's turn to pull away this time, his eyes running over her in the admiring way she had come to know he saved only for her. The look did strange things to her heart, making it race as her stomach twisted in pleasure and anticipation. "You," he stated in mock annoyance, "are wearing too many clothes." Angelina raised her eyebrows at him, hiding sudden nervousness. She felt abruptly self-conscious about the hard muscles of her stomach and the full curves that she so often caught George admiring. In her own opinion, she wasn't much to look at, particularly compared to some of the other girls in their year, but George always seemed to have his eyes on her when she turned to look at him. She couldn't really fathom why. Certainly she had ample curves that accentuated her small, toned waist, but beyond that there was little....

There was no more time for her to worry on the matter as George's warm hands slipped her shirt up and over her head, revealing a practical black bra-- no fancy lace for Angelina, the stuff itched --and a vast expanse of soft, somewhat scarred skin. It wasn't like George hadn't seen her shirtless before, but those times had been less personal. She'd changed in the same locker room as him for years, but she'd always worn a sports bra and she rarely changed her pants while he was there. This was different, this was her exposing herself purposefully to him and she felt shy as he looked at her for a moment, silent and expressionless. Finally the silence grew too much for the girl to bear. She tugged at a braid and mumbled, "Look, if you don't, I mean....change your mind--not much to," she barely registered the fact that she was talking in the same ridiculous way that she had scolded George for only moments earlier.

George frowned, then whistled through his teeth, grabbing her yet again as she made to pull away from him, already reaching for her shirt. "What? No, Angie, Merlin woman, what are you doing!?" He seemed slightly stunned, blinking like a deer caught in the headlights as he stumbled for words, her stuttering obviously not registering with him. Then, suddenly, he shook his head, like a dog ridding itself of water and pulled her back onto the bed beside him, pushing her back and kissing her softly. "I didn't change my mind stupid," he whispered gently.

"Then..?"

"I was sort of admiring my luck."


End file.
